DONNYBROOK

I am a man of few hobbies. They include writing, and playing music. Each of these hobbies, aside from being monumentally fun to partake in, is a valued asset in my life. This is because, when I feel that one practice is stale I can always fall back on the other for emotional support. As I attempt to write this book I often find myself biting my fingernails down to their bases. Sometimes I notice I’m pulling hairs out of my scalp. When I become this flustered, it’s nice to know I can amble downstairs into Studio Evan Studios 1, pick up an instrument (or several) ,and relax. Conversely, if I’m in the mood to write a song and a melody pops into my head (this is rare), if I begin to fret about a lack of progress I can seek out the typewriter or a fresh notebook to start writing in. The amount of time I spend writing is inversely proportional to the amount of time I spend creating music, and vice versa (starring Fred Savage and Judge Reinhold). Without these hobbies, I am but a mere morsel of a man; a blundering, stupid, thin douchebag with a smarmy cocksure attitude and a dick like a stick of dynamite. And by “stick of dynamite” I mean it’s about the size of a juice-box straw.

This week I’ve found myself constantly worrying about the sample chapter and how it’s coming along. So I’ve been taking a lot of breaks. At night kids come over and we play some music. I’ve been going out to buy some gear intended to aid the experimental nature of the sounds I harness. So today, after an early wake up and a few minute spent staring at my meal-ticket-in-progress, I said “Fuck this.” And hopped in my car. I drove into the city, to 30th Street Guitars, and decided to play around with some amplifiers. I wasn’t looking to buy anything, just get an impression of what’s out there. Like any collector of things, I’m constantly looking for upgrades. I didn’t find anything, but I’ve successfully narrowed my choices to an Ampeg V4, a Hiwatt Custom 50, or an Orange AD30. Basically what I want is a loud, crystalline-clean vehicle for my sparse collection of effects to drive. I think it’s either the Hiwatt or the Ampeg that would do that best. The probably of me trading up from my mid-70′s Twin Reverb to one of those amps stands at about 70%. Mostly it comes down to money (which I should be saving for, you know, rent or something), but I got another fat check in the mail today that went straight into my rapidly swelling bank account. Now I’m looking to cash in while there’s still a roof over my head and no bills to pay. Ya dig?

I watched “No Direction Home” last night, the second half, and thoroughly enjoyed myself. Maybe it was the atmosphere (abetted by potent substances), but I thought it to be fascinating. I’ve always kind of hidden my affection for Bob Dylan because I do believe he’s one of the most overrated lyricists I’ve encountered, and I do not think highly of his public persona. You can’t fault the tunes, though. Most of them are just incredible. A little odd that Scorsese never sat down to actually talk with the man himself, but from what I gather, Bob’s always been really into controlling his image and probably didn’t want to face any new questions for fear of contradiction, perhaps? I don’t know. The live footage was all great and rather inspiring. Joan Baez is, as far as I’m concerned, a useless cooze with a shitty kitchen. Still, I highly recommend watching the thing, it’s a few hours long but it’s worth it. The press conference footage is stellar, seeing what a complete asshole Dylan was to just about everybody. He popularized the whole asshole mythos, and did it brilliantly. One might even say he thrived in the face of the adversity or scorn it brought upon him, but we’re not writing a fucking thesis here, it’s just a stream of consciousness cheesy blog entry.